


Firework Memories

by VivelaFrance24601



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: But that's okay because there's still some E/R feels, Enjolras is oblivious until the end, Fourth of July, Grantaire takes a chance, I still have emotions late at night, Kissing under fireworks, M/M, Really poorly written at one in the morning, These aren't real tags so I'll stop now, balconies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4274715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivelaFrance24601/pseuds/VivelaFrance24601
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras takes a break from Courfeyrac's Fourth of July party on his balcony where he revisits old memories and begins to form new ones with an unexpected person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firework Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a series of fics of different scenarios that lead to Enjolras and Grantaire kissing under the Fourth of July fireworks. If anyone has any prompts for me, please put them in the comments! I'll attempt to do each promt.
> 
> This was written at one in the morning and it was unedited (I never edit my fics unless I spot any mistakes or they are pointed out to me. It just somehow feels wrong to edit them), so please let me know if there's any major mistakes. I'm not in control of my mind at so late a time, but I tend to do my best writing then, so yeah. All of my fics have been written between midnight and one.
> 
> Enjoy!

Enjolras hated parties. He liked the idea of a party, because who doesn't like the chance to have fun with their friends? He just didn't like the actual parties with all of their wild games and loud and drunk people.  
Courfeyrac's parties were the absolute worst. Yes, Courfeyrac was his friend and Enjolras cared for him, but he couldn't care one single bit less about all of the parties he hosted and tonight was no exception.

Every year Courfeyrac hosted an Independence Day party in his small apartment, not only inviting all of Les Amis, but anyone else he even remotely had a connection with. More than once there had been complete strangers at the parties who Courfeyrac happened to speak to on his way to the Musain Café each day. This meant the whole apartment, which was fairly large, was crammed with was seemed like an infinite amount of hot and sweaty bodies.

Enjolras was standing in a slightly less crowded corner when the air became too sweltering inside and it was hard to breathe. It was a good thing that Courfeyrac knew that Enjolras would need to get away at some point (he may have forced Enjolras into coming to the party, but he was not harsh enough to let him have his space), so Enjolras had a spare key to Courfeyrac's balcony.

He had to force his way through the crowds of people. The sticky bodies that were pressing against him made him want to gag as he attempted to move closer to the balcony door. Hands were shoved into his face and his toes were crunched down upon by various heels, but Enjolras finally made it to the door. His sweaty hands had difficulty maneuvering the key into the lock, but he finally juggled it into place and heard the small click. Forcefully shoving the handle, Enjolras practically fell into the balcony with the release of the pressure of the crud and slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Enjolras flopped into the rocking chair that Courfeyrac bought for Enjolras. The slow rocking motions quelled the annoyance and anxiety that were flowing through him and left his mind in a somewhat calm state. The rocking and the slight cool summer breeze lulled Enjolras into a dazed state. It made him feel content and relaxed. It dulled the usually roaring river of thoughts racing through his head into a quiet gurgling stream of peace. 

Enjolras liked this feeling. It let him dwell on thoughts that he usually would never think about. Sitting on the chair, he thought, for once, not about the Cause, but let memories flow through the lazy river that was his stream of thoughts.

He remembered watching multiple documentaries about moths with Combeferre (who knew there were so many shows about moths?).

He remembered going to a bar, the Corinthé, he recalled, with Courfeyrac and that he actually had a good time there.

He remembered reading poetry with Jehan and the way his sweet laughter filled up the Musain when Enjolras stumbled over the words of romance that confused him.

He remembered having a fake fan fight with Feuilly; something that he would never have done if Grantaire hadn't persuaded him to have a few glasses of wine beforehand. 

He remembered laughing with Bossuet over his many stories of his perpetual state of unluckyness (which apparently is not a word, but he swore he had heard it somewhere).

He remembered Joly fussing over him when he came to the Musain with a cold one day.

He remembered singing with Musichetta at karaoke night in the Musain.

He remembered helping Marius study for exams.

He remembered babysitting Gavroche for Eponine and getting a rare hug from her when she finally came back from wherever she had to go at three in the morning (Enjolras didn't even want to know where she was).

He remembered the time Bahorel and Grantaire literally dragged him to one of their boxing matched and cheering at the top of his lungs telling them to "win or you better not show your face in the Musain again" (a drunk Enjolras is a wild Enjolras).

Most of all, he remembered having fun.

His heart swelled with happiness and joy over the fond memories that he had of his friends. He wished that he had more time to reminisce more, for he enjoyed reliving his wonderful memories.

After falling back into his stream of memories again, Enjolras was startled out of his reverie by a soft knock on the glass balcony door (he didn't know how knocking on glass could be so soft, but whoever was doing it managed it quite well). Looking over his shoulder, he saw Grantaire standing there with the rest of Courfeyrac's apartment empty behind him. He didn't know how he could miss every single person leaving, but he somehow did.

Standing up, he slowly stretched and walked to the door and unlocked it, letting Grantaire out onto the balcony with him. Instead of sitting down on the identical rocking chair, Grantaire stood against the balcony railing so Enjolras did the same.

"Where did everyone go?" Enjolras asked, breaking the silence first. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but one that needed to be broken, nonetheless.

"They went out onto the lawn for the fireworks," was Grantaire's response.

"Oh," was all that Enjolras said. Even though he wished to know why Grantaire was here with him instead of down on the lawn with their friends, he did not desire to break the comfortable silence that fell on them again.

While watching the people down on the lawn, Enjolras peeked through the corner of his eye at Grantaire. Curiosity blazed through him. He wasn't as close with Grantaire as he was with all of the other Amis. They bicker ed constantly at the meetings and were always fighting with each other at what seemed like petty things, but he was still here with Enjolras now. Why?

His question was soon answered as the fireworks started somewhere close to the apartment complex. He turned to face Grantaire and when he did, he realized that the other man was closer to him than he was before. He looked at him with a question, why?, posed in his expression.  
"Happy Fourth of July, Enjolras," whispered Grantaire as he suddenly leaned in, pressing his lips against Enjolras'. It was soft and sweet and Enjolras gasped, not expecting it, but he met it with an equal ferver, deepening it into something more passionate and slow. All he could think about was Grantaire, Grantaire, Grantaire.

His mind was filled with only Grantaire and he wondered why he suddenly realized how he felt for the man whose lips were pressed against his. As they broke apart to breathe, Enjolras realized that he had always felt that way. He just didn't know what "that way" was. It was love. And now that he knew it, one corner of his mouth turned up in a half of a smile.

Looking at Grantaire, Enjolras whispered "Happy Fourth to you too," as the croud on the lawn below them were clapping and cheering and Courfeyrac was shouting "Finally!"

Then he pulled Grantaire in closer and started kissing him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed all of the E/R feels that I'be packed very quickly into the end because writing happy feels is hard for me. Sad feels are so much easier to write.
> 
> I might do a second chapter from Grantaire's POV if you all want one!


End file.
